


Turbulence

by insominia



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Eye Candy, Humour, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: Paladin Danse disapproves of the Brotherhood's new uniforms. The rest of the BoS don't seem to share his concerns.





	Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found in it's original form here: http://newfalloutkink.livejournal.com/1149.html?thread=390269#t390269

Paladin Danse held up the new "uniform" and made something between a grunt and a sigh of disapproval. What the hell was this flimsy piece of fabric supposed to do in the line of fire. He slipped it on, and noted that the material was at least surprisingly strong and would probably stop a bullet, which would be of little consolation to his arms and upper chest which seemed to be on display to the world. Another grunt/sigh, but he supposed it was only until his power armour was fixed, and he was unlikely to leave the Prydwen until then, so it made little difference. Though he still felt the addition of the brotherhood logo was gratuitous, given how he might as well have not bothered putting it on- no, no, it didn't matter. It was temporary.  
  
He set off in search of Proctor Ingram and Sole; the latter having insisted on helping repair Danse's power armour, given how it was entirely their fault that it had gotten as _gunked_ up as it had. Though Sole had pointed out if Danse hadn't been standing quite so close to the Mirelurk Queen as he had when Sole had caused it to explode, they wouldn't have had to abandon their mission and return to the Prydwen. So lost in his thoughts, Danse barely noticed that while he might not appreciate the new uniform his fellow soldiers _certainly_ did. Heads turned, conversations stopped and one poor scribe walked into a wall when he looked up and got an eyeful of Danse's uncovered pectorals.  
  
"Excuse me, Paladin Danse!" Proctor Quinlan's unmistakeable voice called after him as he passed the Proctor's office. "I have something to discuss with you, if you wouldn't mind stepping into my office." Danse glanced down the length of the Prydwen to where his power armour would be being repaired, but it wasn't going anywhere. He followed Quinlan in. The Proctor picked up a clipboard and stared at Danse expectantly, "you made a recommendation for a sweep and retrieval of the ArcJet facility. I'd appreciate it if you could expand on your reasoning."

Danse frowned, "I believe my report was quite clear."  
  
"It was but there was...an...error in transmission. I'm afraid parts of your report were, ah, unclear," Quinlan said, delicately, "so. Your recommendation. If you wouldn't mind."  
  
Danse sighed. How the Prydwen managed to stay in the air given how something as simple as a report could fail to transmit was beyond him. Nevertheless he gave his reasoning, Quinlan's eyes on him the whole time. Though the man didn't seem to write a single thing down, but he did seem to listen intently, a series of, 'mm,' 'yes of course,' 'good point,' peppering Danse's speech.  
  
At one point they were interrupted by a knight who poked her head in nervously, "e...excuse me Paladin Danse? My uh...my...rifle? It's...got something wrong with it...could you uh...take a look?"  
  
Quinlan rounded on her, annoyed, "do you _mind_ Knight? This is a report _vital_ to the Brotherhood's future. I'm sure your "rifle" could be easily repaired by any number of personnel."  
  
Danse noted that both of them seemed to be looking at him during the whole exchange, but the knight, suitably chastised blushed, "sorry, sir," yet she still took a good moment to actually leave.  
  
"Now where we?" Quinlan prompted. He kept Danse there for a long while, he must be overworked Danse thought, as he asked him the same question a few times, just reworded. The knight was not the only one to interrupt them either, but Quinlan sent the inquiring initiate, scribe, another scribe and Knight Captain Cade on their way, though the latter insisted Danse turn himself over for a physical as soon as possible. When Danse pointed out he'd not long had one Cade had shrugged and blamed a recent power outage for losing that particular file. Danse frowned; he couldn't remember a power outage recently, but agreed to stop by soon.  
  
Eventually he managed to continue on to the power armour bays, grabbing some water on his way. It seemed noisier than usual; he couldn't remember cutlery clattering so much. One poor initiate dropped an entire tray of mugs and gave a stuttered apology, blaming the "turbulence". Danse frowned, but gave it no thought.  
  
He found Sole and Ingram pouring over what looked like his almost fixed suit of power armour. "How goes it?" he asked.  
  
"Great," Sole said, "should be ready in-" they broke off as they looked up at him and stuttered, "weeks," just as Ingram said, "months."  
  
Danse raised an eyebrow, "the damage is that bad?"  
  
Both Sole and Ingram nodded.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Terrible."  
  
"Might need a new suit."  
  
"Gonna be a while yet."  
  
"Pull up a chair."  
  
"Yes please do."  
  
Danse sighed, "very well. I suppose I'll go see Cade and get this physical."  
  
Sole jumped up, "I'll come with you," and then hesitated when they realised Danse was looking inquiringly at them, "well I mean...you...might need help...you probably don't even remember half the stuff we've been exposed too..." they gave a weak laugh. But Danse merely shrugged, and led the way back up the Prydwen, Sole stumbling beside them. They passed back through the mess, more clattering, and Danse wondered how they could even have turbulence while stationary on a calm day.


End file.
